Steve Rogers x Reader: Ice
Summary: Only Steve can make being better than you at everything romantic instead of aggravating.
Rating/Tags: All (Fluff; winter-themed; ice-skating; post-Winter Soldier; pre-Age of Ultron; referenced Natasha & Steve & Sam; established Steve/Reader)
Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.
Tag List: @imaginesfire
Ice
Captain Steve Rogers was, without a doubt, the best boyfriend you had ever had in your entire life. He was kind, surprisingly attentive for a man forever being called out on duty, and never once did he make you feel bad for the things you couldn’t do, which were quite many in comparison to a superhero. One of the few downsides to dating him was that you didn’t get to see him for long stretches of time. This wasn’t all bad, though, as it meant you had to make the most of the time you did have with him.
He was leaving again before Christmas–something about Russia and that being the only time Natasha would be available to go with him and Sam in the next few months--not that you felt threatened by a completely gorgeous superspy spending months alone with your boyfriend of a year or anything like that. All the same, you figured it would be good to leave him with something to remember you by. When you offered to let him choose the activity, however, you neglected to remember that Steve, being Steve, would pick something completely innocent…like ice-skating.
Damn Captain America. Damn him and the airship he flew in on. He immediately took to the ice, doing leaps and spins that earned him even more tourist attention than usual.
You, on the other hand, had never been ice-skating , as a New Yorker or no. Your skates slipped out from beneath you so fast that your butt nearly collided with the ice. It was only your quick grab for the nearby wall that saved you, seeing as Steve was too preoccupied to help.
On his second lap around the rink, it must have dawned on him that you weren’t nearby. You saw him head in your direction, his eyes roving across the seats outside. When he did spot you still flopping helplessly around like a landed fish by the entrance, he came to a complete stop.
“Do you need help?” he asked.
Unfortunately, by then you had drawn the attention of a crowd of children. They peered through the glass separating the stands and the rink with great interesting, tittering every so often at your expense.
“No!” If you could have let go of the wall, you would have slapped his reaching hand away. Why did Steve have to be so good at everything? It wasn’t fair!
“[Name].”
He cocked his head to one side. For about a minute, you refused to look at him. You knew what you would see: His soft look of concern that bordered just at the edge of pity. Obviously Steve was too nice to actually feel pity for you, but you still saw it there whether you wanted to or not.
The children grew rowdier until you heard one say, “Does anyone have their phone? I bet we’d get Internet famous with this!”
You pushed away from the wall without thinking, and you pushed hard. Suddenly you sailed backwards. Several people behind you let out cries as you nearly crashed into them. Somehow, you’d managed to get yourself more embarrassed than you’d been to begin with. Screwing up your eyes, you concentrated enough to wrench one of your legs up–only to immediately begin falling forward.
There went your nice teeth. And your nose. And probably most of your brain cells. The ice got closer and closer, seemingly slow as a snail and fast as a cheetah at the same time. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid seeing the moment of impact.
It never came. One second you were whooshing downward; the next, something had arrested your motion. You opened your eyes to see the slick ground only a few inches away from your nose.
“Ah!”
You shot up, started slipping back toward the door, and were caught yet again. A pair of large hands gently steadied your shoulders. When your head snapped around to see who it was, you found–of course, and you didn’t know if this was more mortifying or less–Steve looking down at you.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Despite the cold, your cheeks felt terribly warm. You took a deep breath and then–very carefully–stood. Your skates did not collapse beneath you. Risking actual steps was asking too much, but by wiggling around a bit, you managed to get yourself drifting in the other direction.
Steve watched for a few seconds, looking confused and a little hurt. Soon he was after you again. “[Name]? What’s wrong?”
You hated when he took that tone with you. It just reminded you of a puppy whose tail you had accidentally stepped on. Steve hadn’t meant anything by his actions. He was just being himself–and you loved him that way.
“Why do you have to be so good at everything?” you demanded.
Steve snorted. “Everything?”
Even twisting toward him didn’t get you to stop. Steve seemed to read your mind and smoothly pulled you to a halt in front of him. When you found yourself lost for words (you had never meant to say that aloud), he lifted his eyebrows and repeated himself:
“Everything?”
“Yes, everything!” You threw your hands into the air. He looked slightly startled at this development. “You’re all strong and courageous and smart and you can even ice-skate.”
“You’re good at things, too.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” he grabbed your hand and started to guide you around the bend, “board games and picking new restaurants and speed reading.”
Was it the fact that you were skating on ice and having to worry about Steve accidentally slamming you into a wall that was making your heart hurt, or your supposed talents?
“Big deal,” you said. “I’ll bet Natasha is better at cooler things than that.”
Steve chuckled, causing you to turn wildly toward him. This did not deter him at all; he simply lifted you before you could crash into his skates and settled you easily onto your blades at his other side. Some of the people watching clapped.
“I like normal a lot better than cool. The things you’re good at are the things I like. Sure, Natasha could probably kill someone better than you, but frankly I’m not terribly into that.”
The heat in your cheeks only grew. He was silent for another lap around the rink. At least the usual group of Captain America-worshiping reporters wasn’t there to see this event. They already spent too much time gleefully writing articles about Steve breaking up with you in favor of practically any other person on the face of the planet (although Natasha was definitely a fan-favorite). You were too boring, they said. But from the sound of things, that was just what Steve liked about you. You couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or annoyed.
“Besides,” Steve interrupted your thoughts.
You looked up at him to see him grinning at you.
“I’m only good at ice-skating because I did it all the time as a kid. Bucky used to take me out, and I’d practice. I could teach you, if you like.”
Hm. Continue to look like a loser in public to prove a point, or let the best boyfriend you’d ever have look a little superior some more? A tough choice. In the end, however, it didn’t take you much time to make it.
“You can teach me,” you said, “but only if you agree to play Monopoly with me tonight.”
“Deal.” He let go of your hand just in time to let you glide over to the wall again. “I’ve been meaning to practice that, too. Just don’t throw the boot at my head if I start winning this time.”
“Only if you actually teach me well enough to get me back to the exit,” you shot back.
Steve smiled and stretched out one of his hands, apparently in the hopes that you would skate toward it. It took a bit of nerve, but after a while, you worked up enough courage to get yourself away from the wall. Maybe one day, you'd find something to be better at than Steve. Maybe it would even be ice skating.
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large zionist blocklist below
i've compiled a list of all the blogs positively interacting with the @/israel-palestine-bingo blog
there's more info about how the names were complied under the read more, but just to get an idea of how vile the blog is, i just want to quickly mention that the first prize offered in their pinned post, "eight hours of memi mamtera," is the song used in the viral israeli tiktok trend of kidnapping, humiliating, and torturing palestinians in the west bank.
and the "grand prize," which needs no explanation, is "all of palestine! for free!"
some quick info: all the names here have either approvingly replied to, reblogged from, or liked one or more of @/israel-palestine-bingo's posts. for likes, i've only gathered names that appear under their original posts; mostly ones that have not been reblogged, and some with 2-3 reblogs that have not left the immediate sphere of zionists. i've also made sure that these are blogs who have either liked more than one posts from them, or who frequently reblogs from other zionists.
you can also quickly look through the blog yourself (it doesn't have that many posts), or check out any of the names on the list with a quick 'israel' or 'palestine' in the search bar or their blogs.
there are more screenshots at the end of the posts, including ones showing who made the blog (ani-lo-daredevil / katenotbishop), and the bingo board itself (ashenpumpkin).
blocking tip: fastest way to mass block users (on desktop) is to go to settings -> the blog your blocking them from -> scroll all the way down to 'blocked tumblrs,' and then copy-paste the name your blocking
names listed below in alphabetical order
reminder again, block don't engage
2peachy
acleverforgery
ani-lo-daredevil
apollo-enthusiast
ashenpumpkin <- credited for making the bingo board, reblogged/liked almost all of their posts.
aureatecorvid
avi-on-jumblr (main @/clear-what-i-was-seeing)
awstheticshit
bambahalva
bleepiesheepie
bluenorther
blueredfetch
bones-and-crows
britneysmeanshirt
cannibalism-is-my-love-language
captain-navii
casavanse
celepito
chubbybubba
ciitrus--fruitz
coffeelovinggayidiot
da-socks
davos-is-the-one-true-king
dchan87
disregardenedgnostic
elder-millennial-of-zion
faggotry-enjoyer
fdelopera
flowercrownsandfairylights
fluffel677
fluffy-art-moss
george-lucas-is-god
got-chavi
icereader12
illegitimatetenenbaum
inklingm8
its-hila
jewishlivesmatter
just-illegal
karinhasdacookie
katenotbishop <- the main account of the person running the blog. her sideblog is @/ani-lo-daredevil
kelluinox
kingofslush
letaot-ze-magniv
lingonberryjamistakenwhat
lovelyhairedpianist
magic-coffee
marrymepadfoot
marvel-ous-posts
masters-puddle <- pornblog
mixmangosmangoverse
morganas-simp
mossadspydolphin
multifandermissesanakin
nameless370
namiko026
nevleg32
notcrazyiswear
oakstar519
perfectlynormalperson
psychologeek
queerius
randomname3
redvodyanoi
rhysaka
sally006
sbinklebooper
scp-1296
shinekocreator <- commented, 'but is this the 8 hour version?' on a post where someone ''won'' the song used in the tiktok torture videos.
snakelung
sort-of-a-demon
soxiyy
stuffandatherstuff
tearsandice
tedious-waffle
thebejeweledwatercat
the-library-alcove
thirdmagic
thisgingerhasnosoul
timegirl
tolaat-bli-toelet <- the person running the bingo blog. mainblog is @/katenotbishop
transmascpetewentz
tribulation-of-somnolence
unexistencerpg
viktorrotkiv
wanderingmadscientist
whiterose-blackrose
whitesunlars
why5x5
note: @/tolaat-bli-toelet changed her username to @/ani-lo-daredevil (her main is still @/katenotbishop)
and from the same post,
the last post was also reblogged by the creator of the israel-palestine-bingo blog
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Based on the STWG daily prompt: new beginnings
Sunlight wakes him. It finds the crack in their curtain and embraces him in its early morning light.
He used to hate mornings like this. Mornings where the sun would streak through his blinds and awash his face in light, bathing him in its golden glow far earlier he was ever ready.
But now. But now when the sunlight wakes him, when it kisses its warmth across his temples, it’s never any earlier than he’s ready for. Because the first thing he hears are Steve’s loud breaths, his cold from last week still lingering. And when Eddie opens his eyes it’s to Steve’s bundled form.
Eddie scrunches closer. Gets under all the warm blankets Steve had wrapped around himself overnight, bundled under the layers meant to be shared, because only asleep, unconscious, could Steve Harrington ever be selfish.
Eddie curls into him. Presses his stomach to Steve’s back and wraps his arms around his front, fingers dipping into the soft give of his middle.
Steve snuffles. Curls himself around Eddie’s arm and presses his face into his pillow. “—Time‘s it?”
Eddie kisses Steve’s neck. “Early.” He whispers.
Steve’s hand finds his. Holds it tight. Presses the twin rings that still rest new and novel on their fingers against each other. A promise.
A new beginning.
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @hitlikehammers @hbyrde36 @littlewildflowerkitten @chaotic-waffle @westifer-dead @perseus-notjackson @finntheehumaneater @theheadlessphilosopher @hellfirebaby-86 @spectrum-spectre @itsall-taken @marvel-ous-m @bookworm0690 @acasualcrossfade
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